


Lucky Gloves

by DeRez



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Boston Bruins, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:31:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeRez/pseuds/DeRez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short ficlet about Tyler wearing Brad's gloves.... Inspired by another picture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky Gloves

**Author's Note:**

> So this is extremely fluffy and adorable, you have been warned. Inspired by [this picture (credit to nothinglike----us on tumblr)](http://nothinglike----us.tumblr.com/post/51656771083/took-this-today-tylers-been-wearing-marchys). So yeah, enjoy!

“Segs, really?” Brad asked, looking slightly exasperated. He was standing at his stall, gloveless. This wasn’t the first time Tyler had swiped his gloves (he often did it during practice), so he was pretty sure it was him who’d taken them this time, before the game. Especially since Tyler’s gloves were sitting on the bench- and he was already wearing some. 

Tyler looked up from where he was sitting, and he gave a sheepish grin, “Come on, Marchy, yours are lucky,” he said, “I can use some luck in the game,” he added. 

Brad rolled his eyes, “They’re not lucky, Segs,” he said, but he sat down next to his stall mate and grabbed Tyler’s gloves. He noticed the other player grin happily, satisfied, obviously. And Brad shook his head, putting Tyler’s gloves on, “You just like wearing my gloves,” he said. 

Tyler shrugged, “No, they’re lucky. You’re just in denial,” he scoffed, and they both got back to their feet since pregame skate was about to start. 

Brad gave him a look, “You’re the one who’s in denial. Just admit you like wearing my gloves,” he smirked, “I mean, they have my name on them… Are you trying to tell me something?” He asked, teasing. 

Tyler gave him a small shove, “You wish,” he said with a laugh as they headed down the tunnel. Brad could see that his face was a little red, though. 

And of course, Brad wasn’t the type of guy to just let things go so easily. “Next thing I know, you’ll be trying to wear my jersey,” he was laughing. 

Whatever Tyler said, Brad didn’t hear it because they were getting onto the ice and the crowd was loud, even for pregame. 

Tyler scored twice, and got the game winning goal. He continuously said it was because of Brad’s lucky gloves.

-

Two days later they were facing the Hurricanes at home. As Brad walked into the locker room to gear up, he stopped short, staring across the room at where his stall was. Or where he knew his stall was supposed to be. Instead, Tyler’s jersey was hanging there, and Tyler was sitting on the bench, lacing up his skates and wearing _his_ jersey. 

“Segs, really?” He asked, though he really needed to stop asking because yeah, _really._ Why did this even surprise him anymore? “I’m pretty sure you can’t do that,” he said, and he continued on his way to the stall. 

“Nobody will even know, besides... Your stuff is lucky, I proved that last game. So,” Tyler trailed off, and Brad let out an exasperated huff.

“Yeah, okay, if my stuff is so lucky you should let _me_ wear it. I could use a goal or two,” Brad said, and he slipped off his hoodie and began to go through his routine of gearing up. “And people will definitely know, how can they not? I’m a lefty and much better looking,” He rolled his eyes, laughing. 

“No, you’ll be lucky if you wear mine,” Tyler said, grinning as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. Tyler finished with his skates and then grabbed Marchy’s gloves, and Brad gave him a look. Tyler simply shrugged, “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, shaking his head. Brad worked on his skates, and after he got them laced up, he reached behind him and grabbed Tyler’s sweater and slipped it over his pads. “You know, people might think the wrong thing when they see us wearing each other’s jerseys,” he said.

“Like what?” Tyler asked quietly, glancing at Brad. 

Brad was pretty sure Tyler knew very well what he was talking about. His eyes met Tyler’s, and his heart rate picked up. Wait, was this… was this on purpose? Had Segs’ done all this… on purpose? Brad never thought it was possible, that Tyler would even so much as look at him in that way, ever. “Well, you know,” he said, fumbling slightly with his words, his hand motioning to his name on Tyler’s back.

“No, really, what would people think?” Tyler asked, and he turned slightly to face him. He was a little red in the cheeks. 

And Brad was positive this was all on purpose by this point. “They’d think we’re together, or something… “ He trailed off, and he was pretty sure he was more flustered than Segs’ seemed to be. 

Tyler grinned, “Well, I know that seeing you wearing _my_ sweater makes me want to think you’re mine,” he said, and holy shit- Tyler was leaning closer than he had been. “Well, if you’d want-“

Brad’s entire world shifted, it seemed. He couldn’t believe Tyler had said those words, and that he wanted him, him of all people. Before Tyler could continue to ask such a dumb question, he moved a hand to Tyler’s neck and pulled him forward, closing the distance between their lips. 

It didn’t occur to them that they were in the locker room, about thirty minutes away from an important game, making out as if the world was going to end. Tyler was easily in control of the kiss, mapping out everything about Brad’s mouth and taking note that when he pulled back to nibble on his lower lip, Brad let out this breathy little groan. 

And before they could get back to it, a spurt of water hit them both in the face and they jumped slightly apart in surprise. “You two looked to be getting a little too warm,” it was Ference, smirking with a water bottle in his hand. “Thought I’d help cool you guys down, since, y’know, we’ve got a game to play,” he rolled his eyes. “Glad to see you’ve finally figured things out, though,” he shrugged, and then returned to his stall, ever the responsible one.

Brad glanced around the room, noticing that the majority of their teammates were now here, and that they were all relatively amused. “Thanks, Fers, appreciate it,” he said, clearing his throat a bit and scooting a bit away from Tyler.

When Julien came in, and saw them with switched sweaters and flushed faces, he simply shook his head. “I don’t want to know,” he said, “But only for warm ups,” he continued, and then continued further into the locker room.

Tyler and Brad shared a look, and they both smiled.


End file.
